Evan Drake's Unrepentant Bitches
by LovelessNobodyXIII
Summary: It would be impossible for a team of good girls to protect Evan Drake's gold from the forces of Rasputin. It's a good thing there aren't any of them working at Cheers. Inspired by "Homos, or Everyone in America."
1. Chapter 1: The Gold Standard

Evan Drake's Unrepentant Bitches

By Arthur P. Geddermeyer

Chapter 1: The Gold Standard

MAY 15th 1988. The Diamond Ballroom, Little Rock Arkansas

The diamond ballroom was completely full. What seemed like thousands of excited partygoers pushed and prodded their way across the dance floor. There was so little space that it was impossible to "save room for Jesus," not that the guests of Auric Goldfinger's extravagance ball would care for such expressions of chastity. Goldfinger had spent years gathering resources just to throw what would be placed in the history books as the most ludicrously overindulgent festival of the Reagan Administration. Several men sat naked under the champagne waterfall letting it gently pour over their bodies without drinking any of it. Weird Al' Yankovic was accompanied by a thousand-man band to perform parodies of songs that hadn't been written yet. After hearing Green Day's American idiot on the radio many years later Cobra Commander would go on record saying "Oh that's the joke. It was Canada instead of America." Needless to say, Auric Goldfinger's party was the talk of the nation.

Goldfinger's eyes and legs wandered around the ballroom taking him wherever he'd needed to go. The party was everything he'd imagined it would be and more. The completely normal chocolate fountain you'd find at a common man's party had cost him a bit more than he'd budgeted for it but the luxury of making something healthy like fruit unhealthy by dipping it in molten hot chocolate was worth the expense. Speaking of his precious chocolate fountain, a woman was standing by it watching the festivities as they occurred. She was dressed as if this party was her day job, wearing a green dress one would probably wear to a presentation they didn't want to attend. It looked like it cost her about $400 (adjusted for inflation to 2018). Her eyes met with Goldfinger's while he walked towards her.

"Enjoying the party?" Goldfinger asked while dipping a melon ball into the chocolate. He twisted it around on it's melon ball stick so that it was covered completely.

"Ehh. Events this massive have never really been my style. I prefer private gatherings. Nothing more extravagant than a ten friends getting together to share stories over drinks. This kinda stuff is ridiculous." She replied.

"Well that's funny. I'd have thought you'd be having the time of your life especially because you aren't on the guest list." Goldfinger laughed and ate his melon ball in one bite. Acting almost entirely on instinct he reached for a strawberry this time.

"I don't see why you're talking to me. I'd have thought you'd be having the time of your life, especially because you've been dead for three days." The woman replied. She took the last sip of her drink, which Goldfinger assumed was a white Russian. The woman swirled the ice resting in the empty cup around with her straw.

"Rumors of my demise… have been greatly exaggerated" Goldfinger said calmly. "Why don't we head to the bar. I'll get you another drink."

"I've already called a waitress. She should be here any second and besides, I like it over here. .Nice and quiet, it's perfect for people watching." The woman said.

"If you wanted quiet why'd you sneak in?" Goldfinger asked leaning towards the woman. "I'd have thought someone as lovely as you would appreciate a little attention." Next thing the woman knew Goldfinger was kissing her. With one of her arms she pushed him away. This woman was far stronger than Goldfinger had expected her to be so he stumbled backward.

"You've got a silver tongue Auric. I guess your mother didn't teach you not to kiss a girl with a gun"

INTRODUCING EVAN DRAKE'S UNREPENTANT BITCHES CHIEF EXECUTIVE OPERATIVE: REBECCA HOWE!

Within seconds Rebecca pulled a pistol out of the space between her breasts. It was pointed directly at Goldfinger's head. Goldfinger yawned "Whoever sent you here should already know that's useless against me. It's also worth nothing this room is filled with security, and they're armed to the teeth. Why don't you put the gun down so we can talk before they arrive to torture you? I promise I'll do you harm until then."

"Where's Rasputin?" Rebecca snapped. "He has to be on the guest list." She glanced around the ballroom. There were fifteen men with large guns strapped to their backs she could see, and God only knew how many were there that she couldn't. She lowered her gun and slid it into her dress before any of them could see her.

"He's no longer in my debt so to be honest, I don't care where he is. If that's all you wanted I'm afraid you've come up short." Goldfinger was perfectly calm. He turned his gaze to the waitress walking towards the two. Just as Rebecca had mentioned prior she had what looked like a White Russian on her tray as well as a champagne flute filled to the brim. She was taking her time coming over stopping on occasion to say hello to partygoers and take their orders.

"Here's the drink you ordered your highness." The words creeped out as Rebecca grabbed the glass from her tray. It seemed like the action of saying them made her completely sick to her stomach. "And of course, I've brought your favorite Mr. Goldfinger. It's wrong to let the host go without a drink in hand."

Goldfinger grabbed the flute off her tray and poured the drink down his throat. It was gone in one sip "Thank you very much. I understand that you're busy but I'll gladly have another when you're available miss-" Before he could finish his sentence Goldfinger began choking and fell to the floor.

INTRODUCING EVAN DRAKE'S UNREPENTANT BITCHES EXECUTIVE IN CHARGE OF ESPIONAGE CARLA TORTELLI!

"We already know he's gone fool's gold Rebecca, the sweet talk's getting us nowhere. Did you bring the acid?" Carla yelled. A guard immediately ran forward with a gun in hand. Without taking her eyes off Auric she thrust a bottle of champagne which was originally resting on her tray at the guard. With the tray now perfectly empty Carla began smacking Goldfinger with it repeatedly.

"You" the tray came crashing into Goldfinger's nose. A small bit of blood seeped out. Auric's blood was slightly off color, almost as if it had been ran through a very light yellow filter.

"tell" Carla smashed her makeshift weapon on each of Goldfinger's kneecaps. Rather than the crunch of bones shattering beneath her force that she was used to when hurting people it sounded like two large pieces of metal colliding.

"us" By this point the skin on Goldfinger's legs had been torn to shreds by the force of Carla's blows. His bones were in full view. They were made of Solid Gold. Carla felt she'd hit them enough so she moved onto another target.

"where" The drinks tray was thrust onto Goldfinger's back so she pushed him onto his side and started hitting him in the stomach. If she targeted his squishy fat gut there would be fewer bones to protect him.

"Rasputin" by now the drinks tray had been bent horribly because it was not intended to be used a weapon against someone with gold bones so Carla looked around for a new weapon.

"Is." It was at this moment that Carla noticed the three hundred and fifty armed guards that had circled her. Each had a gun pointed directly at her head. She had no choice but to sit there silently. If there were only three hundred and forty armed guards she'd have been able to shriek like a banshee and take all of them out through force of pure Italian rage but those ten left her horribly outnumbered.

Watching the exchange go down Rebecca spilled her drink over her dress. She would later swear it was part of her brilliant strategy to escape, but as you are about to see her brilliant strategy to escape would fail. For all the guards knew she was another one of the partygoers who'd gotten caught in the wrong crowd so she started to stumble as if she'd just downed a whole bottle of wine. "If you'll excuse me, I need to fetch myself another drink." She said to one of the guards. Upon doing so she placed her pointer finger on his chest and flicked his nose when he looked down. I think she thought it would be cute.

Carla wasn't going to let Rebecca leave her to die. It was either going to be both of them, or neither of them. "Hey, she was trying to assassinate Goldfinger too, she just sucks at it!" she yelled. The guard she was trying to get around pushed Rebecca into Carla and both found their selves collide with a brick wall.

"This is just what I was trying to avoid Carla." Rebecca said while placing her hands into the air.

Suddenly, there was a music cue for "This Love" by Maroon five and the walls of the diamond ballroom began to shake. This was a music cue for the reader and not for the bitches that played as individual bricks starting falling out of the foundation of the wall. The reader understood that this was like 2013's the "Great Gatsby" where modern music was used to tell a story set in the past while there was a small explosion going off on the wall opposite to the one Rebecca and Carla were forced against. More bricks fell out of Carla's wall and a small smoke grenade popped through an especially large opening. The guards were too confused to shoot anything. Just as the smoke grenade detonated a regular grenade was thrown through the very same hole. Rebecca and Carla jumped to the ground to avoid the explosion.

INTRODUCING EVAN DRAKE'S UNREPENTANT BITCHES DEMOLITIONS INTERN HEATHER CHANDLER.

A large chunk of the wall to the diamond ballroom fell down and Heather was revealed to the guards. She was holding three sticks of dynamite in each hand which she threw out to them with glee.

"I wonder which of you pretty girls is going to catch the bouquet." she yelled. All of the guards were male but Heather was an unrepentant bitch so she didn't really care about harming their fragile masculinity like that. She also didn't care about harming their bodies since she'd thrown multiple sticks of dynamite at them. With her newly freed Hands Heather grabbed her companions and dragged them out of the ballroom before the blasts went off.

Three months earlier, Cheers, Boston Massachusetts.

"Sam, representatives from Ballast Point are calling in about an hour. They want to get a few of their new brews on draft, but I think I'm going to be busy working on payroll with our new intern. Can you take it for me?" Co-manager Rebecca Howe asked while she walked into her office.

"No problem Rebecca. Just make sure Woody knows that he's running the bar alone." It was a slow day at Cheers. The Boston sports-bar was usually packed with thirsty customers, but after a practically nonexistent lunch rush only a few customers remained slowly nursing their beers to completion before they had to return to their daily lives. Lovable postman Cliff sat at his favorite barstool eager to talk the ear off of anyone who'd be willing to listen.

"It's been a hard day on the force Wood-Man." Cliff started mumbling without provocation, Wood Man "Woody" Wily had no choice but to sit and listen. After Ernie "Coach" Pantuso had passed away, former owner of Cheers (and current co-manager) Sam Malone decided that he'd need a new assistant bartender. To keep regular customers from getting attached to someone who could die at any second like a fleshy human would Sam chose to invest in the finest robot bartender money could buy. Wood Man was programmed to kill using a shield of razor sharp spinning leaves but for a good fee Dr. Wily was able to reprogram him to listen to people's problems and fill drinks. "There's a troublemaker in our midst. I've received near endless calls and it's always the same. One of them old bags has called yelling about how 'some punk smashed her mailbox with a baseball bat' every hour on the hour."

"Well that's funny Mr. Clavin. Do you know who's doing it?" Woody asked.

"Of course I know. It's that damned Negan. Who else owns a bat in these parts of town?" Cliff cried. He slammed the rest of his beer down in one gulp and slammed the mug over the bar.

"Excellent point." said Woody. "It's not like anyone plays baseball around here."

"Well hey. I used to-."

Sam was immediately cut off by Carla. "Shut up Sam, they're talking about Negan. I can't stand Negan, biggest jerk any of my kids have ever dated. I hate him with every fiber of my being. Always goes around with that bat of his. I swear if he lays one finger on my Lucy he won't know what hit him." Carla was walking a tray with two glasses of wine but she spilled some of it in frustration.

"Carla, can I see you in the office for a minute? It's important." Rebecca asked. The door to the office at Cheers was only slightly open, Rebecca's voice was just able to creep out.

"Sorry about your drinks ladies. They're on the house. I'll have them comped for you. We'll take the cost out of Sam's check." Carla said as she placed the two half empty glasses of wine safely into the hands of Lois Griffin and Betty White, who were the only other customers besides Cliff at the time. She scurried into Rebecca's office as quickly as her small legs would carry her inside. The door had shut behind her, barely making a sound as Rebecca paced around the office. "Is something the matter Ms. Howe?" Carla asked.

"We've got a mission stupid." Heather said. Rebecca's junior intern was sitting in her desk doing basic math on the computer, making sure they didn't overorder anything.

"Well don't you feel special your highness." Carla said with a sarcastic sneer. "I wasn't able to focus. I've got Negan on the brain."

"If he's bothering you that much I can step on his dick. Multiple times really. It'll be fun. In fact I'd love to. Just say the word Carla. I'll probably do it even if you don't." Heather said. It looked like her mouth was watering at the prospect when the phone rang. Rebecca rushed to pick it up and put the office on speaker phone.

"Hello bitches." Evan Drake said.

"Hi Evan." Said the bitches.

"Is there anything we can help you with Mr. Drake? Our entire schedule is free, anything for you." Rebecca said, letting each word spit out as quickly as possible.

"Has Mr. Peterson come in today?" Evan Drake asked over the phone?

Carla was about to say "no" when the echoing cry of a crowded bar yelling "NORM!" came booming from the inside of the bar. Even though there were only two customers aside from his trusted friend Cliff Clavin the bar rushed to life with his arrival.

"What can I do for 'ya today Norm?" Sam asked. His left hand was placed directly above the nearest tap. One quip later he'd be prepared to pour a delicious beer into the frosted mug he had resting in his right so he could serve it to his beloved friend.

"I'll have a goldschlager if you don't mind Sam." Norm said. The mug dropped out of Sam's hand and came crashing to the ground. Since it was made of glass it shattered from the force of the earth's gravitational pull.

"Don't you want a beer Norm?" Sam asked, clearly perplexed after just one sentence.

"Vera got me a bottle yesterday as a Valentine's present. It was amazing! Did you know they have actual flakes of gold resting in there?" Norm asked as "Mayday" Malone reached for a bottle off the shelf behind him.

Over the phone Evan Drake heard the entire exchange going on in the bar next to them. Rebecca, Heather, and Carla could clearly hear him sigh as he said "It's just as I'd suspected. Bitches, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your friend Norm is dead."

TO BE CONTINUED


	2. Chapter 2: Heart of Gold

Evan Drake's Unrepentant Bitches Chapter 2: Heart of Gold

February 15th 1988, 20 minutes later Cheers, Boston Massachusetts.

Dr. Frasier Crane knew he wasn't the most popular member of the gang at Cheers. Though he'd always felt that one day he'd receive the spotlight he deserved; when it came to swilling beers with his companions Frasier considered himself better fit sitting in the background. Even so, Frasier had expected even one acquaintance of his to give him a quick hello as he marched to his favorite stool across from where the other regulars would sit. What he didn't expect to see was a zombified Norm Peterson using Cliff Clavin as a makeshift club swinging his body to knock Sam Malone to the ground. Frasier looked in horror at Norm's spinal cord, fully visible and covered entirely in gold. Small patches of blood glistened over the gold plating. Frasier couldn't tell who's blood it was. Carla and Heather, Rebecca's new intern, had flipped a table over. They were using it for cover while they each fired multiple rounds out of pistols. The bullets clinked off of Norm dealing no damage as he threw Cliff at Woody, ripping his metallic arm clean off.

June 30th 1988, the swiss alps.

Carla Tortelli had been abandoned. At first sight of Rasputin the other bitches had ran off climbing their way to the top of the mountain.

"So at last we finally meet." Carla spat, "I'd never have expected you to be so ugly Rasputin. You bedded a queen, not just anyone can do that." Even though she had a gun pointed to Rasputin's face he was guarded by his three ultimate sentinels. The only sentinel Carla recognized was Laxus of the Thunder legion. Where Laxus's left hand had once stood was only pure lightning that formed the shape of a left hand, covering his solid gold bones. Carla could only assume the other sentinels were Fool's Golds as well.

"Miss Toretlli. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance." Rasputin walked toward her and kissed her right hand. "It would be much appreciated if you'd tell Mr. Drake I'll be coming for his gold soon."

"Why do you want Evan's gold? You've got plenty." Carla called. Laxus grabbed Carla with his lighting hand, sending a shock of electricity through her. Her knees buckled from the jolt. Carla fell into the snow. As her face kissed the powder she felt the heavy push of Laxus's foot come crashing down on her right leg.

"What do you know of Coalhouse Walker Jr?" Rasputin's question was the last thing Carla heard before the avalanche began and she fell unconscious.

I don't actually know when this particular event happened. Ragtime opens with the little boy saying "In 1902, Father built a house at the top of the hill on the corner of Broad View Avenue in New Rochelle New York" but later in the same song they mention that it was 1906 "and there were 94 years to go" so all I know is that this particular moment in time takes place somewhere in the early 20th century, JP Morgan's Library, New York New York

Coalhouse Walker had his hands up. The words of Booker T Washington had been just what he needed to understand that choosing to use violence as a response to violence would only lead to more violence and that he should surrender peacefully. The white man he'd considered a friend even though he did not know his name had promised that the police barricading the doors would not shoot him. The white man watched him walk towards justice with a smile on his face. Neither knew what Coalhouse's sentence would be. Coalhouse's guilt or lack thereof would be the decision of the courts. The thought that Coalhouse would receive the death penalty as punishment for going on a murder rampage and burning down a bunch of firehouses was running through both of their minds but the spirit of America kept them optimistic. Maybe Coalhouse would be let off with a warning and ten hours of community service under the assumption that he'd never go on a murder rampage again. Maybe Coalhouse would get a life sentence but have the opportunity to talk to impoverished youths to make sure they didn't go on murder rampages their selves later on in life. Maybe Coalhouse would be shot in the head several times immediately after he'd left the library leaving him dead and the white man staring in shock.

The third thing happened.

September 10, 1990 U.A. high school, Musutafu, Japan.

The entrance exam for U.A. had began moments ago. Rather than waste students' time with a written exam that didn't have anything to do with punching bears All Might and twenty nine other potential students were placed into a pit filled to the brim with thousands of bears. Being able to fight bears was a very in demand skill for pro heroes, especially since the current number one hero Cold Persano used his quirk "frosty arms" exclusively to wrestle them into submission. His sidekick, the number two hero Crisp Bagel, used his quirk "Giant Bagel" to trap bears in large bagels so Cold could Full Nelson them to their demise. Desert Storm had just begun so all of the terrorists were busy fighting the US Military so pro heroes dedicated their skills to beating bears into submission. Points were given to students in accordance to how many bears they were able to punch so All Might was on a bear punching frenzy.

"Wait just a second, aren't you All Might? You're already a pro hero" a young girl said said as she used her quirk to slap a bear out of the pit allowing it free reign to move amongst the free men. It looked like she was about college age.

"Yes. I Am." All might said. He assumed he'd get extra points if he tried kicking a bear so he swung his leg around sending several bears falling to their knees in kick pain.

"What are you doing going to a high school? You're a full grown adult. You're also already one of the top heroes around." The girl said. "Like honestly, you're the only one that fights actual criminals. Everyone else just punches bears." Her Quirk, buckshot, placed a 12 shotgun into her hand. It was filled with Ich-Luge bullets so when it punched a hole into a bear's chest it would only be knocked unconscious so she could punch it before it died and still earn one of those sweet sweet points.

"I need more training. I had a friend I wasn't able to save a long time ago." All might said, with a frown. The frown was turned upside down when he Detroit smashed a bear toward his new friend.

"I've been there. My ex-boyfriend killed three people and tried to blow up my school so I was like 'might as well become a hero to atone for my sins.'" This mystery potential hero who we now realize was Veronica Sawyer said.

"I have a lot of respect for you taking responsibility for your ex's actions. Let's be best friends." All Might said and from that moment forward, they were. Until the tragedy tore them apart they would be inseparable.

February 15th, 2018, immediately after Chapter 1 ended.

"Umm. Mr. Peterson looks as alive as a man who is clearly alive." Heather said. "You're losing your marbles Mr. Drake." She was chewing a piece of gum at the time and used it to make a big bubble. It popped in sync with Norm pouring a shot of gold schlager down his throat.

"Unfortunately, Norman Peterson has become a 'Fool's Gold.' My old archnemesis Rasputin sent me a letter just last week saying 'Norm Peterson is now a Fool's Gold. I will use your own customers to defeat you.' Now I'd thought that was one of Rasputin's old practical jokes. He'd get me to think an acquaintance had died and he'd reanimated his corpse so I'd accidentally commit a homicide and spend one or two lifetimes in prison but Norm ordering a gold schlager was all the evidence I needed."

"Can you speak English Mr. Drake? We have no idea what you're talking about." Carla said through the phone.

"What do you know of Alchemy?" Evan asked.

"It was pseudoscience." Rebecca chimed. "Magicians of old tried to use magic to change old metals like tin or iron into gold."

"That question was Rhetorical Rebecca, but I appreciate the effort. If it's pseudoscience then why did I go to Japan? Alchemy is the number one tool of Rasputin. What do you think he uses all of the gold he steals for?" Evan asked over the phone.

"Maybe he buys himself a frilly dress to tell himself he looks pretty." Heather said, another bubble springing to life and popping in death within seconds.

"This is important Heather. Now's not the time for your bitchiness. Rasputin transmutes gold into the reanimated corpses of the dead, and he won't stop until he's built an army so large he'll be able to break free of globulite for good."

"Well what are we supposed to do about it?" Carla asked.

"Hold him back until I'm able to return to the states. To stop an alchemist you need to become an alchemist and I'm out here learning from the best but he's coming for my gold. At this point he's created Fools' Golds around the world. I have a short list you should investigate while I'm training. It'll be faxed to you within moments."

Two months before the other event set in the early 20th century, Coalhouse Walker's secret warehouse in New York.

"I know how to blow things up" was all the white man's younger brother needed to say for Coalhouse to understand.

"Welcome to the team then." Coalhouse replied, "my associate Killer Bee will help you get fixated." The shredded Ninja from the village of clouds grabbed the younger brother's bag and placed it on a chair hidden in the corner of the warehouse.

"So, what's the plan exactly? Are we going to fight for your justice or just sit around like a bunch of baldmen?" Younger brother asked.

"You do understand that I'm half baldman right?" Coalhouse asked.

"Oh right, I'm sorry. Force of habit." Younger brother wanted to hide in his shirt, but kept himself composed. He didn't want to offend his new boss further. Coalhouse had just finished his daily murder quota but Younger Brother was open to the possibility of him completing another.

"Some call him the black Baldman, or the baldman with the golden voice." Killer Bee said.

"The Goldman for short." Coalhouse's other associate Robert Freeman called out from his seat at Coalhouse's side. "Legends say that after hearing Coalhouse sing just one note anyone who has been oppressed will come rushing to his aide. It's almost like hypnosis."

"Man that skill would come in handy if we were trying to use something like alchemy to build a zombie army. We could just hypnotize people into being zombies rather than have to actually kill them then use a valuable material like gold to reanimate their corpses." Younger Brother said.

"Yeah, exactly. If we wanted to build a zombie army it'd be really easy to with Coalhouse on our side."

February 15th, 1988 Ten Minutes before Frasier would enter the Bar, Cheers, Boston Massachusetts.

"Negan stop. You don't know what you're doing!" Carla yelled but it was too late. In order to protect his firstborn son Spencer Negan had chosen to use his bat for justice and swung it mightily upon Norm's head. Norm recoiled in shock which gave Spencer just enough time to slip out of his arms.

"See Ma, I told you Negan was good." Lucy told Carla as Spencer rushed into his mother's arms.

"I still don't like that he got you pregnant out of wedlock, and I don't like that he hits things with bats all the time." Carla said While Negan and Norm were in an intense game of tug-of-war over the bat.

"Ms. Tortelli, I could really appreciate some help over here!" Negan yelled as he ripped the bat out of Norm's chubby fingers. It was covered in barbed wire so some of the skin on Norm's hand was ripped off showing his solid gold bones.

"Mr. Drake was right, he is a fool's gold" Rebecca said. She pulled two guns out from the bar, passed one to Carla and the other to Heather. For herself, Rebecca had grabbed the katana whose blade she had spent the past two months studying. She'd wanted to use it to show Evan her sick Katana skills when he returned from Japan but it would need to be used to slice the reanimated corpse of the first real friend she made at Cheers into a deanimated corpse. Rebecca swung the blade, aiming for Norm's stomach and cut a small piece of fat off him.

In heather's hands was a small, plastic explosive with adhesive properties. Upon seeing the small opening in Norm's body heather ran forward and stuck the explosive to the lump of fat that was left with direct access to open air. She slid over a table to immediately flipped it over as a form of cover and started firing at him. A few moments later she pressed the detonator on the explosive and a large chunk of Norm's stomach was destroyed. Even though his golden spine was perfectly visible Norm was able to keep moving as if nothing was wrong.

"How on earth are we supposed to deal with him?" Heather cried out in shock.

March 21st 2000, Some random part of inner city Chicago,

Number one Hero Big Fun and her trusty sidekick and best friend All Might had the shudderwock cornered. In a last ditch effort to survive Shudderwock's claws detached and All Might was pinned against the nearest wall. Big Fun tried to fire a pair of rounds out of her shotgun but they were effectively powerless, bouncing off Shudderwock's scaly skin like they were made of plastic.

"I didn't want to have to do this, but I'm going to have to reveal the true form of my quirk." Big Fun said and extended her right hand. A large red pole materialized out of her arm. She had used magic to hide weapons her quirk formed inside of her body, a skill she'd learned from UA teacher Jade the Necromancer. The blade of a scythe started forming from the top of the pole. The steel was bright red with an auburn blade that would shine like auburn hair glistening in the sun. "The true power of buckshot is that it forms weapons from the souls of teens that die around me, and this was the most powerful of them all: The scythe Chandler." With one swing of the blade Shudderwock was slain. All Might fell to the floor in shame.

"To believe all this time… You were my best friend for all of these years and I never knew you were Heather Chandler's killer." All might said

Spear Pillar, November 10th 2003

"Hey Dialga. I hear you can get me back in time. I'll give you this lucky weed pipe if you can get me back to 1989. I need to kill the girl who stepped on my boss's dick" Jason Dean said.

TO BE CONTINUED


	3. Chapter 3: The Eye of the Begolder

Evan Drake's Unrepentant Bitches Chapter 3: The Eye of the Begolder

By Arthur P. Geddermeyer.

April 7, 2019, the Continental United States.

"Colorado, YEET" All might Yelled. Though he wasn't the greatest skater he'd found himself gracefully sliding over the long path of ice Elsa had created for him. While All Might was moving Palkia rested comfortably in his hands, curling himself into a ball so he could more easily be thrown. The second the word "Yeet" came piercing from All Might's throat he'd reached the end of the path.

"Send him out at about a 32 degree angle" Thomas Sowell yelled from the sidelines. Thomas was running five calculations at the same time, and if even one was one tenth of a thousandth of a hundredth off from reality their efforts, however valiant they may have been, would have ended in failure. Just before the transfer from ice to solid ground caused All might to trip, he launched Palkia into the sky with all of his might. The second Palkia was airborne he took out his lighter, took out his blunt, and started smoking. As Palkia got more and more high, the spacetime that surrounded him was slowly turning into weedtime so Palkia started to grow.

After Palkia's first experience transferring spacetime into weedtime had made him shrink to the size of a human (See Dialga and Palkia and Pure Evil) he'd started to train. If a godlike being with power that lorded him over space was going to smoke weed, he'd need to make sure he could keep his domain under control while doing so. Though he'd always had the ability to bend space to his whims under the effects of weedtime Palkia had more control over how it moved. Palkia caused the space around him to shrink, which not only made him larger by comparison he would appear to be accelerating because there was less space to travel through. Within seconds Palkia was just as large as Godzilla was, even so he would only have one shot to save the American Power and America itself as a result.

Godzilla was not planning on going down without a fight. Rather than allow itself to get tackled to the ground and no longer be able to enjoy his seemingly neverending feast of American Power he moved his leg so that he could take multiple steps to the left and be out of Palkia's path of travel.

"Not on my watch you won't." Elsa called and froze Godzilla's leg stopping him from being able to move until Palkia would crash into him sending the two flying out of the Earth's atmosphere. Godzilla flailed his dinosaur arms around. If it was able to knock the blunt out of Palkia's mouth maybe the growing affect would stop. "Dialga, now!" Elsa screamed.

Dialga started to use his roar of time. For those who weren't watching the fight occur it sounded like "One Week" by the barenaked ladies was blasting through all of America. This is because throughout the years Dialga had been living a secret double life, disguising himself as a human so that he could go on to form the barenaked ladies and sing his beautiful roar of time without shame or fear of levelling multiple cities.

Godzilla popped his head to the side and said "You're crazy." But Palkia wouldn't stop smoking. Time sped up around the two combatants soaring who'd just now left the Earth's gravitational pull. They were getting nearer and nearer to the sun and Palkia would soon rival it in size. At this point Palkia could easily have crushed Godzilla within his claws but that punishment wouldn't stop him for good. The spirit of Godzilla would live on to be transferred to some other Kaiju.

"Just crazy enough to save America." Palkia said as he and the sun collided. The plasma and the pressure burned immensely but Palkia knew it was a sacrifice he would have to make. If he couldn't withstand this pain, there was no way he'd be able to withstand the pain that was about to come, which would last all of eternity. "Solar Spacial Rend." Palkia yelled and cut a large hole in the space holding the sun with his own claw. As they flew through the hole he'd created Palkia closed it, fusing the two into the space occupying the sun for all of eternity.

All Might, Elsa, and Thomas Sowell gave the acquaintance they'd teemed up with out of necessity an honorable salute as thanks for sacrificing himself. Dialga fell to the ground crying. Though it needed to be done he couldn't watch as his smoking buddy he'd only truly befriended months ago give himself up to save the US. "You should have been the Sacrifice Sowell." Dialga sulked, "It's your fault we were in this mess in the first place."

"He'll be back in his cell in the warehouse in no time Dialga." All might said.

"You're not getting it All Might. I've lost my friend." Dialga said.

"I too have experienced loss Dialga. Let it fuel you as it's fueled me. Use the memory of your friend to go beyond and reach power far greater than what you'd though was possible before. The strength they give you is the real plus ultra. They'd rather you continue to fight for good with a smile." All Might said while a single tear slid from his left eye.

June 30th, 1988 the Swiss Alps, immediately before Carla Tortelli would wake up.

A sudden gust of cold wind kissed Carla awake as she found herself tied to her bitch Rebecca's back. The two found their selves skiing down the mountain. She tried to shift her body weight around and nudge herself free but she was tied tight. Carla's arms were hanging over Rebecca's shoulders but she was able to move them. There was a lance hanging from Carla's back, if she were to stretch she could grab it without trouble. Heather and Laxus were skiing directly in front of them. There was something held between Heather's left hand and her ski pole but Carla wasn't able to tell what it was. Laxus was the furthest down the mountain by far creating extra distance by covering his path with a long string of electricity.

"Grab the lance Carla. We're going to ski-joust him." Rebecca said. She made a quick pivot to avoid a rock jutting through the snow The sudden movement Jerked Carla's head around.

"That's the stupidest plan I've ever heard. He's so far ahead we'd never reach him." Carla replied. From her position in the center of the ski-commotion Heather threw the object she was holding.

"Grab the lance Carla." Rebecca called a second time "We're running out of time." Using her left thumb, Heather flicked the topmost part of her ski pole off and pressed the big red button sitting atop it. There were two large explosions sending Rebecca, Carla, and Laxus careening into the sky. "Grab the Lance." Carla had not grabbed the lance as she and Rebecca flew through the sky. "I told you to Grab the lance." Rebecca shrieked.

"How was I supposed to, I just got back into consciousness." Carla shrieked. She slammed her fists on Rebecca's chest. "And now we're in the sky." Carla started biting at coat she was stuck inside, trying to break free. "And I'm still stuck being a secret agent for Mr. Drake, who can't even be bothered to tell us 'oh by the way Rasputin's goonies have lighting hands.'" Carla slapped Rebecca across the face once. "We're going to die and I'm going to have to spend eternity in Hell with Eddie."

"Hold me Carla." As she spoke a large bundle of snow came flying into Rebecca's mouth.

"What no way. When we die, I don't want people thinking we were friends." Carla replied.

"I have a new plan." The words fumbled out of Rebecca's mouth, it was still filled with snow.

"After your last one went so well, you should understand why I'm skeptical." Carla said. Rebecca started contorting her body. She curved herself so that her body was running parallel with the mountain.

"Brace for impact" Rebecca called as the two got nearer and nearer to Laxus. The distance between them was closing by the second. Carla embraced Rebecca in fear just as the lance smashed into Laxus's back. He was knocked unconscious by the blow and was sent falling into the large pit of snow they soared above. A third explosion went off, and moments later Heather would join her fellow bitches in the sky. The three soared through the air while Rasputin followed behind them riding the golden fossilized skeleton of a T-rex he'd reanimated the corpse of using alchemy. They crashed to the ground at the perfect time. If they'd been flying for just a second longer they'd have crashed right into their boss, Evan drake, sitting alone on a massive throne made of all of the gold in his possession.

Some point in 1989, Whichever High School Heather Chandler went to

In the Autumn of 1988 Heather Chandler's internship with the Lillian corporation would end and she would return to high school. She learned nothing about operating a business, but did get to blow up a ton of cool buildings, snow caps, and zombies made of gold. It was somewhere between one and five seasons later that the events of the 1989 film Heathers would occur. Time Travelling assistant of Negan Jason Dean would get his vengeance then be driven mad by the power of infatuation. Stuck in the past for good, he'd fill the void Negan had left by combining dating with blowing up a bunch of teens.

February 15th 1988, Cheers, Boston Massachusetts.

"Sammy, give me the cutlass. She's gone crazy." Carla yelled as she held Diane Chambers back with one arm.

"No Sam, give me the cutlass. I still love you." Diane countered. Sam had watched his former lover and best friend duel countless times. While Diane was an employee at Cheers he'd see the two spat over who was more annoying, whether ballet was real art, or on one strange occasion whether or not it'd be acceptable to pickle a strawberry but he'd never seen them try to kill each other. Sam had half expected Carla to make a dirty shot once in a while but he never believed Diane would be the initiator of bloodsport. "Rasputin said my writing could make it to the top Sam. I could even sell 1000 copies. All he needs from me is all of Evan Drake's Gold and I could be published." Diane continued. She'd broken a beer mug and was using the sharp blade to cut into Carla's arm. Carla pushed Diane back and Sam gingerly handed the cutlass to her.

"Thanks for not throwing that cutlass at me Sammy." Carla said as she swung it with glee, slicing a tip off of Diane's new haircut.

"No Problem Carla. You should never throw bladed weapons, that's how people get hurt." Sam replied as Carla continued her offense.

Meanwhile Rebecca and Robin Colcord had their guns pointed directly toward each other. It was what onlookers would consider a standoff. "I won't hesitate to shoot you Robin. It must have taken a lot of gold to do whatever you and Rasputin did to Norm and I know you've got a lot more of it." Rebecca called.

"Do you really think Mr. Peterson's the only one we've made? In fact, how do you know I'm not a fool's gold already Rebecca?" Robin said.

"I loved you Robin, don't make me pull this trigger." Rebecca replied, never allowing her arms to twitch. She kept the barrel pointed directly at Robin's head.

"I don't think you can. You'd never shoot me. You were always weak Rebecca. You couldn't do anything on your own. You just did exactly as you were told. You sat like a leech and did what you were told in hopes that they'd reward you with a small piece of their strength, or their wealth but what you really wanted were orders. The truth is you can't do anything unless someone tells you to." The sound of Rebecca pulling the trigger killing her former lover was drowned out by the sound of Heather Chandler firing the 18th century French Cannon she had stored in the closet of Rebecca's office. A massive Cannonball pierced Norm, disconnecting his spinal cord from all the other bones in his body. The gold that allowed him to move and act without life started to melt. His bones were completely free, he moved no more.

June 30th, 1988, two minutes more than the amount of time it takes a T-Rex to run 100 yards later than when we last left our heroes.

"Let's strike a deal Rasputin." Evan Drake said, not once moving from throne. "You have my bitches, you want my gold. Maybe we can work something out."

"You're lucky I don't strike you dead Drake." Rasputin said. The T-rex skeleton was lying down. If it still had eyes there would be reason to believe it was taking a nap. Rebecca, Carla, and Heather were stuck inside of the it's ribcage. They struck each individual bone, hoping one was brittle enough to break through but the gold that kept it moving was too hard to crush. "You're lucky I don't just transmute the gold now. I've got Mr. Walker's corpse right here, prime for the reanimating."

One of Rasputin's Ultimate Sentinels reached into his backpack, pulled out the dead body of pianist Coalhouse Walker Jr, and threw it into the snow. Evan sat in silence as the two sentinels that were still conscious drew an alchemical circle in the snow. "You know, transmuting gold into the reanimated corpses of the dead is a sharp idea Rasputin."

"My fool's golds are practically immortal. They cost an arm and a leg to make but they're a powerful investment. It's a shame I won't have to make more once Mr. Walker is a servant of mine. Who needs an army when you can lull people into following your every desire?" Rasputin laughed.

"It's the second-best use of alchemy I've ever heard. The only thing better would be to transmute gold into muscle mass." Evan Drake's sentence finished just as the ultimate sentinels finished making the alchemical circle. He clapped his hands together and the gold around him turned into a bright light. The light coalesced inside of him. As his muscles began to grow larger and larger even his hair turned Gold.

Rebecca Howe watched her boss transform in wonder. "Mr. Drake. You look amazing" she said. Everyone gathered around the swiss alps were completely awestruck by the change.

"That name is too weak for me. I have given myself a new one." Harder to Breathe by Maroon 5 started playing as the man stood up from the snow. "From this point forward, you must refer to me as All Might." All Might said. He walked forward slowly still unsure of how much power he truly had.

"Pebbles, attack." Rasputin called his T-rex into battle. Though it was still resting it swung it's tail towards All Might. As the tail slid across the ground All Might lifted his right arm to shield himself from the blow. At the moment of collision the Tyrannosaurus's bones shattered into dust. All Might continued to walk forward slowly as the beast struggled to get itself standing. Without its tail it had no means of getting back up. It was defenseless against All Might's fury. All Might ripped the T-Rex's head straight off and chucked it far to the top of the mountain. There's no reason to believe it isn't still sitting at the summit to this day.

"Well Rasputin, it looks like we're at an impasse." All Might said, "Because it looks to me like while I have all the bargaining power, you have my bitches."

TO BE CONCLUDED.


	4. Chapter 4: The Golden Age

Evan Drake's Unrepentant Bitches Chapter 4: the Golden Age

January 30th 1980, A classroom in Boise Idaho.

"I wish this wasn't goodbye Ms. Frizzle. You've been such a great role model for me over the years." Nine-year-old Heather Chandler said.

"You were always one of the goodest girls in my class. Bring your good spirit to Boston and never let anybody corrupt your soul." Mrs. Frizzle replied.

"If only my dad didn't get that big promotion. If he wasn't needed in the big city I could stay here and continue to do good deeds with all of my good peers like Leopold 'Butters' Stotch and Amelia Bedelia. Unfortunately I need to say goodbye to the good people gang." Heather covered her eyes with her hand and placed the last daily apple she'd give Ms. Frizzle. She didn't want her beloved teacher to see her crying as she walked out her door for the last time.

May 15th 1988, A back room of the Diamond Ballroom.

"Can you make this quick? I always hate leaving my wife all alone and I'm trying to enjoy the party." Negan said. He placed his legs firmly on top of Rasputin's desk. For one moment Rasputin was terrified, probably afraid of the bat Negan was using for balance, but regained composure quickly.

"I know what the girl did to you." Rasputin chose to ignore how rude Negan was being. The desk was made of pure mahogany and mud on his boot was seeping into the wood. "You can get your revenge."

"I can get it myself. I have a bat, I have an arm. I can swing with the big leagues Rasputin."

"And kill your 'Oh so beloved' mother's friend? Think of what poor little Lucy would say. She wouldn't be happy." Rasputin's words caused Negan to scowl.

"She's never happy Ras. What do you even want?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. Really. All I need is a voice that can be heard on the other side." A twisted smile creeped across Rasputin's face. This wasn't the kind of smile you'd get after your first bite into a donut, this was the smile of a man hiding something.

"So you're saying you want me to spy on my own mother-in-law?" Negan's hand gripped his trusty bat even harder.

"You misunderstand me Negan. I won't be collecting my payment for 20 years. You'll just need to make one friend, a boy my voice can't reach. A boy named Jason Dean."

"If he's that important why can't you get him yourself?" Negan asked. He placed his legs off Rasputin's desk and started towards the door. The clicking sound from the turn of the knob was completely drowned out by Rasputin's voice.

"That right there's the ticker Negan. I can't get the boy because I can't leave this pretty old town." Negan stopped before he was able to get through the door fully.

"You mean to say you can't leave Little Rock?" Negan asked.

"I'm sorry, that's a force of habit. Town is a poor choice of words. It'd probably be better to describe it as a prison." A creeping darkness filled the room. "It's a crying shame, even though only two of us truly know about the true nature of this place, we're the only ones who can't leave."

June 30th 1988, a few minutes later, the Swiss Alps.

After a moment of contemplation All Might threw his strongest punch directly into Rasputin's squishy underbelly. He pulled his right hand back and threw the same punch again. The two blows alone had created a small fracture in Rasputin's arm. He winced in pain. "I was really enjoying that conversation All Might. Why'd you have to go and-." Rasputin was cut off by a left hook to the head. He spit one tooth out after he recovered from the blow, "ruin it."

"We've been around this block how many times now Rasputin? You know how this works. I know you've already won the war, it always happens, but I'm winning this battle and I'm taking your life." All Might was immediately throwing his left. A powerful uppercut connected with Rasputin's jaw. All Might's fist hit Rasputin's chin slightly faster than he had expected it to come out. "I always forget about that jump. A personal favorite of mine" He called with a laugh and started to move into a flurry of punches. All Might's unrepentant bitches could only sit by and watch in a strange combination of amazement and terror. Each punch seemed like it was far more power than Rasputin would be able to withstand, in moments he would be no more.

July 23, 1986, the Lillian Corporation Boston Headquarters.

Evan Drake's right hand skyrocketed backwards. The cup of hot tea he was sipping crashed into his face and shattered from the momentum of Evan's pull. "I always forget about this jump. Ugh." Evan thought as the hot liquid dripped from his nose to the cartoon penguin on his tie.

"Are you okay Mr. Drake?" An intern asked. The boy rushed to the door, apparently to grab some tissues from the secretary outside, but Evan stopped him before he could leave.

"Just a muscle spasm, I get those from time to time. Nothing to worry about." Evan had experienced jumping through time countless times by now and was mostly used to it. One thing he'd learned about the jumps early on is that the nerves don't recognize that you've jumped until it's a second too late. Your body may be in a completely different position but it will move just as it was the instant you jumped. This made running difficult for the first few hundred cycles, at any second he could be anywhere on the planet years in the future, or fifteen feet away from himself moments before. Mr. Drake understood that Time and darkness didn't mix too well and the timeline being fractured was part of this but it was difficult to remember exactly when the jumps would be. "Can you send for my lunch?"

"You've already eaten Mr. Drake. It's 4:30, the days about to end." His intern said.

"Why does it always have to be 4:30. Why can't I get jumped to noon for once." Evan thought, placing his head on his desk in annoyance. "Okay then get me." Evan had to think for a moment. He hadn't actually eaten in a years (the fractures always seemed to magically skip over mealtimes, but he always received energy from the meals that were skipped) and had long since forgotten which flavors were his favorites. "Get me a filet mignon, no a porterhouse, actually a strip steak could be good. You know kid, just bring me a big mac, maybe just this once I'll be able to eat it bef"

?

After a reset, Rasputin always forgot what the afterlife. Whenever a reset came, he knew he'd died but what happened to him after was a blur. so once again he knew nothing of his surroundings. If he ever jumped to a point earlier in time he'd forget until he returned. Rasputin wasn't even sure it was the afterlife. he'd assumed it was because when he found himself awake he was a zombie and was sure wherever he'd landed wasn't on earth. His scattered body parts scuttled their selves back together. He was lying down, his face pressed on a hard cobblestone road. Small wooden buildings that seemed like they had been built in Colonial America littered the street he was resting upon. While he struggled to regain his strength a horse drawn carriage ran him over. Rasputin pulled himself to his legs as a young boy crossed his eye.

The child was on crutches. It looked like he could be no older than seven and one of his legs was shorter than the other by just a hair. As Rasputin worked to push the dirt off of his clothing the boy limped toward him. What started as a slow crawl got faster and faster. The closer the boy got the faster he was limping. Though he was an evil man, Rasputin was worried the boy would trip. The boy's smile warmed Rasputin's cold heart.

"Mayor Rasputin, you're back!" The boy sobbed and embraced Rasputin. Though he was small the boy had intense grip strength and once he'd caught Rasputin in a hug, he would not let go.

"I'm the mayor of this town?" Rasputin was confused.

"Yes. Mr. Mayor. You are indeed the mayor of Globulite. You've been in charge for thousands of years. You may disappear for a while but you always come back which is why you were named mayor for eternity." The boy said, finally releasing his grip.

The boy's infectious joy overcame Rasputin's gloomy demeanor. "I'm the mayor then. Mayor of Globulite!" his words bellowed out, the sound waves echoed through the streets around him. Cheers could be heard from all directions, the people were excited that their mayor had returned. "Why don't you show me around young boy?"

The young child hobbled Rasputin to a large statue of a man with long white hair. He had a beautiful sword raised to the sky. Children played around the fountain and called to the boy, but he lead Rasputin along the way to the large building. The building was completely grey, and adorned with Corinthian columns. The roof was domed, and the top sat a statue of Rasputin pressing a gun to the forehead of some woman whose face couldn't seen. "Welcome back to city hall Mr. Mayor"

Rasputin wanted to know more about the statue that stood at the top. "What, pray tell is that?" He asked.

"A monument to your eternal fight against the unrepentant witch." The boy stopped to salute Rasputin's statue.

"And who would that be?" Rasputin asked again.

"She doesn't live in Globulite. She appears every once a decade, destroys your throne, and leaves." The boy lowered his arm, grabbed a pistol from his coat pocket and fired it forward in the same way Rasputin was in the statue.

"What's so special about the throne?" Rasputin asked.

"Why don't I show you?" The boy replied and took Rasputin into city hall. There was a beautiful chair made of a green gemstone Rasputin couldn't put a name to. It had one red cushion but was otherwise unadorned. A light shined on it. A basic look over of the city hall told Rasputin that the room was designed so that wherever the sun was, it's light would shine on the throne. "Every ten years it magically reforms itself. Legends say that if you're sitting in it at the end of the ten year period your curse will be lifted, and you won't have to go away anymore."

"Is that so?" Rasputin stroked his beard. "Then this time we'll have to make sure it has extra security."

February 3, 1980, Boston Massachusetts

"Welcome to Boston Heather, we'll be your guides to how to be cool in the city." Nine Year old Skeletor took nine year old Heather Chandler by the hand and pushed her onto the swing set. With a hearty shove his trusted companion nine year old the juggernaut got Heather moving through the air.

"This isn't very nice of you boys. I don't want to swing right now" Heather shrieked.

"Ehh, Nice is overrated. Regina George, Yukako Yamagishi, the Juggernaut, Miranda Priestley, Serena van der Woodsen, Blair Waldorf, Ivan Drago, Stan Gable, Biff Tannen, Johnny Lawrence and I will show you how to be cool. We'll be the best of friends until all of us go to different high schools and never speak of each other again."

April 7, 2019 The Continental United States.

"And that is the full story of how I had to fight my best friend to the death after her ex killed one of my unrepentant bitches in a cruel revenge scheme." All Might said. Even though his heart was breaking recounting the tale of Heather's sacrifice All Might kept his smile shining brighter than the sun. Venting about bitches and friends lost was just what he needed to motivate himself to keep fighting on.

April 20, 2420 The Continental United States

"You know All Might," Dialga said. "That story really put things in"

June 19, 2008, Spear Pillar

"Perspective."

"Why did you just say perspective like that? Is that you trying to hide your best cards?" The next thing Dialga knew, he was in the middle of a poker game with Groudon, Rayquaza, Reshiram, and Yveltal. It was a poker game he remembered very well. In just a few moments Yveltal would throw his cards onto the table, say the game was bullshit and fly off to raze Jubilife City with his classic death beams.

Yveltal Threw his cards onto the table. "This game is

The radio shack in Times Square

Everything that ever happened in the space that occupied that one Radio Shack in times square happened at the exact same time. Every living being who even once stepped foot in that radio shack screamed in excruciating agony. The building was being turned to rubble from its demolition, hot like the surface of the Earth in the age of the dinosaurs, cold like the vast expanse of outer space, and being built at the exact same time. Children were born there. A man was stabbed in his kidney. Every Black Friday sale went on that the exact same time. It was truly a nightmare

September 17th, 1863. 3:15 PM sharp

All of the universe coalesced into one single point at 3:15 on September 17th 1863. If there was enough space for any one person to scream, they would be screaming in excruciating agony. The pressure of infinite black holes pulled everything that was in existence at the time together into this one single point that in that moment became space. They'd remember the pain forevermore.

AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

"DIALGA! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!" Elsa yelled in terror as the universe crumbled around her. Some said it took her five years for the sentence to leave her mouth. Others said it appeared instantly.

"Palkia is gone. Without him space is ceasing to exist and without anything to balance time it's starting to fracture." Dialga tried to slam his arm legs into the ground but the ground disappeared into nothingness below him. He began to seep into an abyss. Dialga assumed it was the qliphoth but in reality he was seeping into an expanse that reached nowhere because down no longer existed.

"It's already fractured. Somebody needs to take Palkia's place." Giratina said. The lack of space and fracture in time caused Giratina to be warped to All Might and Company.

"I will do it." Thomas Sowell floated through the emptiness toward Giratina. "It's my fault we're all in this mess I will be the one to take care of it." He said.

"Giratina and I can summon Arceus to dub you the new spatial lord but you don't have enough strength to withstand the power. This will probably wipe your consciousness clean." Dialga said as he fell from nothingness to nothingness that was slightly higher than the nothingness Thomas Sowell occupied.

"It must be done to atone for my sins." Thomas said. There was no emotion to his words. He felt no guilt, he felt no shame, he felt no pride. He only felt understanding. Dialga and Giratina grabbed each other by the arm legs and in [time no longer exists] Arceus was there. It's golden antler back shined gloriously.

"What does this mean?" Thomas Sowell asked as he too began to glow.

"You are his new Vessel." Giratina said with even less emotion. Thomas Sowell did not respond. He would stand there, glowing, keeping space from falling apart for all of eternity.

April 7, 2019 The Continental United States.

"That didn't fully solve the problem." Dialga said. "We still have the fractured time to deal with. It has no space to inhabit so it will just keep fracturing ad infinitum until all of the universe is jumping through time every second."

"Can we do anything with the fractured time? Maybe tie it to another dimension? A world outside a world between worlds maybe." Said immortal cripple Tiny Tim who was there the whole time. "Dialga could place it at the beginning of time and have it fracture forever, but repeat itself, never to bother the universe that abandoned it."

"That's just crazy enough to work, but time needs to be bound to something. Time is essentially change, and if it affects nothing the fractures will amplify and continue to destroy our world." Dialga started running calculations in his mind. Tiny Tim's idea worked in theory, but there was something missing he'd overlooked.

"Then we tie it to my darkness. Rather than spacetime, this fractured existence will be known as Darktime." Giratina called from the shadows he rested in.

"That doesn't do anything to combat the lack of change. If things repeat their selves in the same way over and over again the fractures will continue to amplify." Dialga sighed in defeat. At any moment time would be fractured forever and all of history would be jumping between itself.

"Then put me in the Darktime." All Might kept his smile going even though he was more afraid than ever. He had no idea what the Darktime would be like but knew that if it meant keeping the universe safe it was a sacrifice he'd need to make. "If it needs change to stay stable, I as an emissary of spacetime will provide that change."

"That's very noble of you All Might, but there's no way your idea will work. We'll need two, three probably, emissaries to keep the Darktime stable." Dialga said.

"Then it's a good thing I know just who to take with me." All Might was no longer giving a smile to reassure those around him that good times were coming. This was the smile of someone who was about to get revenge.

?

"She's coming! The Unrepentant Witch rises once again." Rasputin sat on his throne as the calls bellowed through town hall. According to the calculations, it was almost time for the next reset. If Rasputin could stay on his throne for another few months he'd be able to escape the Darktime for good. The strongest mages in Globulite rushed at the sound of words multiple men, women, and children cried. Each prepared their most powerful spell, ready to fire as soon as the unrepentant witch slid into view. Her red hair seemed to burn as she walked through the columns of Globulite town hall and in an instant hundreds of fireballs were launched her way. The unrepentant witch walked through the blasts with only a single flam igniting a small part of her hair.

"You must be the unrepentant witch. You're tougher than I'd expected." Rasputin scoffed as the woman continued to walk forward. He pulled out his gun and pointed it directly at her. The woman walked by unphased. She continued pressing forward until his gun was pressed directly on her forehead. "But I can't believe you were truly so stupid as to walk right to me." Rasputin pulled the trigger. The bullet collided with the unrepentant witch and for a moment after there was silence.

"Oh Rasputin you weak minded fool." The unrepentant witch said.

INTRODUCING ALL MIGHT'S UNREPENTANT WITCH: DEMOLTIONS INTERN HEATHER CHANDLER

"Killing me once did nothing, do you really think trying it again would do anything?" Heather said as she pulled the pin out of her favorite grenade.

"You bitch." Rasputin cried as he slapped Heather Chandler with his pistol.

"Why don't you call me something I don't already know I am." Heather replied with a laugh as the grenade exploded, destroying the Throne and Rasputin with it.

December 31, 1989. Cheers, Boston Massachusetts.

"This round is served on the house in memory of Heather Chandler. She was a mythic bitch and went too early. We'll all miss her immensely." Rebecca said as she poured everyone a full glass of champagne.

"Try to be modest Young Rebecca. We're still on my dime here." All Might said with a grin as he poured the champagne down his throat in one gulp.

"I'm sorry Mr. Drake- err. All Might, sorry I know it's been over a year but I'm still not quite used to it." Rebecca said.

"Can you scuzbrains, the ball's dropping." Carla said as the gang at Cheers began to count.

"Ten" Fraiser cried

"Nine" woody beeped from the bottom of his robot heart unit.

"Eight" Sam laughed.

"Now there's something real interesting about the number seven" Cliff said through his beer.

"Six" Rebecca chanted with glee.

"Five" Lillith hated watching the ball drop, but loved to see her Husband having fun so just this once she played along.

"Well, this was a good cycle I guess." All Might thought to himself. He looked across the bar loaded with his friends, peers, and customers. The end of the decade was always bittersweet. Once again he'd stopped Rasputin before he could create a zombie army but he was unable to protect his most unrepentant bitch Heather Chandler. "Well, here we go again. Another day"

January 1, 1980. The Lillian Corporation Boston Headquarters

"Another Decade." Evan Drake was all alone in his office. The loneliness was always the worst part of the reset. At the end of the decade all of his friends would forget all about him. They'd forget the adventures. They'd forget the beers they poured. They'd forget the beers they drank. They'd forget that they were ever Evan Drake's Unrepentant Bitches and once again would be called to action. Some of the people he'd remeet over the next ten years would be called to their deaths.

Evan Drake sighed and picked up his phone. He dialed the same ten numbers he'd pressed in countless times before with a melancholic glance over the Boston Skyline. "Mr. Chandler, hello, and Happy New Year. Can I interest you in a promotion? Pays great. The only catch is you need to move to Boston." For the first time that decade Evan Drake smiled. "Bring your family with you. I'm sure they'll love it."

THE END.


End file.
